


The Keys

by telera



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Enemas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telera/pseuds/telera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt at the tronkinkmeme: "Alan/Sam -NEED MOAR ENEMA FIC!!! I don't care which one is receiving the enema, I just want! Maybe Alan is giving Sam one while the do a little kinky daddy role-playing? Oh you've got a stomach ache? Daddy knows what will hep you feel better. Or Maybe Sam likes giving them to Alan because he loves to watch him blush and shake and squirm with embarrassment. and likes to stroke and cuddle Alan while murmuring how hot and sexy he looks. What ever floats your boats anon! Go wild!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Keys

Alan was going through the last sales reports for the following day’s meeting at ENCOM. It was late at night and he was still sitting on the sofa, surrounded by folders and statistics. A mug of coffee had turned cold long ago, and the muted program on the TV bathed the room with a bright glare. It had been a very long day, and Alan had arrived home well past 11 pm. Sam had left a note saying he would be going to bed soon, so Alan had prepared a quick sandwich in the kitchen and had eaten it on his way to the dining room. The stockholders quarterly meeting was always a tough one, and he didn’t want to go to bed leaving some loose end on the report. He was writing a note on the margin of the final conclusions when he heard footsteps on the corridor.

  
‘Hey’ he smiled warmly as Sam appeared on the doorframe ‘Still awake?’

  
‘Yeah’ he said, as he returned a queasy smile. He hesitated a few seconds and finally entered the room. 

  
‘I just wanted to double check everything’s in order before tomorrow. Just give me ten more minutes and I’ll be done, OK?’.

  
Sam said nothing. He simply stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders slouching forward and his jaw tightly set. Alan frowned.

  
‘Sam, are you alright?’ 

  
He looked tense and pale, his eyes nervously shifting around.

  
‘What’s wrong?’

  
Sam avoided meeting his eyes, just took a bunch of keys from his pocket and left them on the table before disappearing down the corridor. Alan was genuinely surprised, and for a moment just looked at the keys unblinkingly.   
  
It was a signal they had agreed upon months ago. Whenever Sam needed to act out his little fantasy, he would leave the keys on the dining room table. Then, it was up to Alan to pick them up or not, thus agreeing or rejecting the game. At first, Alan had been freaked out by the whole idea. Actually, the first time Sam had called him “daddy” while having sex, he had been horrified. It had taken him six months with a therapist to understand Sam’s fantasy was in no way related with what he felt was his failure as a surrogate father. In time, he had come to accept this role play was just a harmless way for Sam to release pent-up pressure. “Relinquishing control in a safe environment” the therapist had said.   
  
Alan had finally agreed to take part in the fantasy, and it had all turned out less difficult than he had anticipated. After all, what Sam needed most of the times was just a spanking. Some other days, Alan only had to tie him to the bed and watch as he struggled against the restraints. Some half an hour later, Sam broke up and started to cry, and Alan held him until the weeping subsided. On some occasions, the fantasy turned… darker. He wasn’t sure what Sam needed tonight, but on hindsight, he should have anticipated it. Sam had been working for weeks to prepare the meeting, and there was just too much at the stake tomorrow. No wonder the stress was just too much to bear. Alan ordered all his papers and picked up the old keys with a sigh. Whatever Sam needed, he would play along. He couldn’t really say ‘no’ to him.  
  
Alan reached out for the remote control to switch the TV off when Sam popped his head through the door. He looked for the keys on the table, and when he saw they were not there, he sighed with relief. Alan saw him take a deep breath and squeeze his eyes shut.

  
‘Daddy, are you still awake?’

  
‘Yes, Sam. Shouldn’t you be in bed?’

  
Sam entered in the living room and sat down on the sofa.

 

‘I can’t sleep’.

  
‘How so?’

  
‘My tummy aches’.

  
‘Oh’ Alan raised an eyebrow, the idea for tonight’s game quickly taking shape in his mind ‘And when did the pain start?’

  
‘Just after dinner, dad’.

  
Sam shifted nervously and looked down, suddenly finding the sofa’s upholstery utterly fascinating.

  
‘Could I just have some Alka-Seltzer and go to bed?’ he said in a little voice.

  
Alan half-closed his eyes.

  
‘You know, Sam. I’m wondering how could my dinner upset your stomach so. I prepared white rice and roasted chicken. Nothing you haven’t tried before’.

  
Sam looked up at that, a faint blush tingeing his neck.

  
‘Em… Well, maybe it was… It was… The sauce?’ he attempted lamely. The blush crept up Sam’s face and coloured his cheeks. Alan took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  
‘Sam, what did you really eat?’

  
‘Nothing, daddy, I swear’ he quickly said ‘I mean, only your dinner’.

  
Alan wore his glasses again and looked at Sam.

  
‘If you lie to me again I’ll stretch you over my lap and spank you. Is it clear?’

  
Sam shivered and nodded.

  
‘So, let me ask you again. What did you have for dinner?’

  
Alan held his breath while waiting for an answer. It was either staying there for a spanking if Sam lied again or going upstairs if he told the truth. 

  
‘I… I ordered a pizza. Dad, I’m sorry! I was so hungry I… I just called and had it delivered here. Are you mad?’ 

  
Alan smiled.

  
‘No, I’m not. I appreciate you telling the truth, Sam. But that leaves us with your stomach ache. Go upstairs and wait for me in the bathroom’.

  
‘Yes, daddy’.

  
He was leaving when Alan spoke again.

  
‘What did you do with my dinner?’

  
Sam froze on the spot and turned, a hot blush creeping up his neck again.

  
‘I… I…’

  
‘Did you give it to Marvin?’ 

  
‘No, I…’

  
Sam hung his head low and muttered a feeble  _I’m sorry_.

 

‘You threw it away?’ Alan inquired.

  
‘More or less’ he muttered.

  
Alan left the sofa and walked up to him.

  
‘Sam, look at me and answer’.

  
Sam looked up and swallowed hard.

  
‘I chopped the chicken and… Flushed it all down the toilet. So you wouldn’t find out’.

  
Alan was stunned. Sure, he was not a great cook- actually, Sam and he always joked about his little kitchen disasters. But having one’s dinner flushed down the toilet was cruel. His nostrils flared in anger.

  
‘Up you go, Sam.’ He ordered, and Sam disappeared up the stairs.

 

***

  
Alan found him fidgeting in earnest.

  
‘Look, dad’ he began ‘I’m sorry. I truly am’.

  
Alan said nothing, only opened the bathroom cabinet and frowned.

  
‘I promise not to do it again. Ever’.

  
He then opened a drawer and rummaged inside.

  
‘Please, forgive me’ Sam pleaded, a genuine note of regret in his voice.

  
Finally, Alan located what he was looking for under some towels.

  
‘Can I please have an Alka-Seltzer and go to bed?’

  
Alan turned, a black box in hand.

  
‘I’m not giving you an Alka-Seltzer, Sam. I’m giving you an enema’.

  
Sam’s eyes opened wide in horror, his insides turning to icy water. 

  
‘A-an…’ he stuttered as he saw the red bag appearing. Alan started to connect the rubber hose and saw from the corner of his eye Sam was getting red. Very red and very hard.

  
‘Daddy!’ the begging began, just as Alan knew it would ‘Daddy, no… Not  _that_ , please!’. 

  
But Alan ignored it and continued with his preparations.

  
‘It’s not necessary, really… I… feel so much better now!’

  
‘Sam, it is necessary’ he said in just a little patronizing way ‘You’ve got a stomach ache and this will help you feel better’.

  
‘But I’m fine now!’ he insisted, desperately trying to escape the inevitable.

  
‘Come, come Sam’ Alan turned the faucet on and waited for the warm water ‘Don’t make such a fuss. This won’t hurt you. And we’ll be done in five minutes’.

  
‘But daddy!’ he sniffed, tears welling up in his eyes ‘Please! I don’t want to!’

  
Alan filled the red bag and stopped the water. Then he connected a small black nozzle and smeared it with Vaseline.

  
‘Ready?’ he raised an eyebrow and Sam shook his head.

  
‘No’ he mouthed.

  
‘Sam’ Alan gave out an exasperated sigh ‘The water’s getting cold. Now, turn around and rest your forehead and palms against the door’.

  
Sam wiped away a tear with the sleeve of his pyjamas and obeyed, if only to loose sight of the dreaded enema bag. Alan removed the robe from the hanger next to Sam’s head and hung the bag there. Then he pulled Sam’s pants down.

  
‘Spread your feet apart, Sam’ he said, as he parted his cheeks and spread some more Vaseline on the puckered entrance. Sam held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

  
‘Sssh’ Alan soothed, and gently pushed the nozzle in.

  
‘Oh, dad’ Sam gasped, blushing a furious crimson. 

  
‘OK, here we go’ Alan undid the clamp to allow the water to flow inside. But nothing happened. Sam squirmed.

  
‘Dad?’

  
‘I’m sorry, Sam. It seems this nozzle is blocked. I’ll have to use the big one. Don’t move’.

  
Alan turned the clamp and took the thin nozzle out.

  
‘What…?’ Sam opened his eyes in confusion, the words barely registering. He turned his head to see what was happening and saw Alan picking up the thick black nozzle.

  
‘No, dad! That’s too big, I can’t take it!’ he cried, even as Alan applied more Vaseline.

  
‘Of course you can, Sam. Now, rest your forehead on the door again. I’ll be with you in a second’.

  
Sam steeled himself for what was coming and Alan allowed himself a brief smile. Of course the small nozzle was not blocked. This was just his little vengeance for the dinner. He didn’t want to make it a punishment, that was not the point of the game. Not tonight, anyway. But Alan had decided he would make Sam squirm for good. So he rubbed the tip of the nozzle with a bit of soap and connected it to the rubber hose.

  
‘Alright, Sam. I’m going to stretch you a little’ he said, and slid a finger deep inside him.

  
‘Daddy, please’ he whimpered, clenching his muscles and resisting the invasion ‘No, please’.

 

‘If you don’t want me to stretch you, we’ll move to the nozzle right away’ Alan warned.

  
‘Nonono’ Sam took a calming breath and forced his muscles to relax. Alan started a low rhythm, circling and crooking his finger until he heard Sam moan low. Then he slid his finger out and placed the tip of the nozzle against his warm, slick hole.

  
‘Listen to me, Sam. This is going inside you. It’s big and thick but I know you can take it. You will beg me to take it out but I won’t. So, be my brave boy and do this for daddy’.

  
Before Sam could react, Alan pushed the tip of the nozzle inside him, feeling him tense at the sting of the soap. Sam hissed in surprise, and Alan pressed the nozzle deeper.

  
‘Oww, daddy’ Sam was already squirming ‘It…  _burns_ ’.

  
‘I know, Sam’ Alan continued pushing, and with a quick thrust he settled the nozzle in place.

  
Sam moaned, his fingers scratching the smooth wood of the door. 

  
‘Daddy, it burns, please take it out’.

  
‘No, Sam, I won’t’ Alan replied opening the clamp and letting the luke-warm water flow inside him. Sam opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. He was feeling strange and stretched, hot and thoroughly embarrassed. Soon all he felt was fullness and desperation, and just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the water shut off.

  
‘Dad…’ he started to shake, his head was spinning and his cock throbbing in time with his pulse.

  
‘Hush, Sam, I’m here’ Alan whispered, caressing the small of his back in circles. 

  
‘Dad, can I go now?’ Sam begged.

  
‘Not yet, Sam. I want you to hold the water for two minutes’.

  
‘It’s too much, dad’ Sam was breathing short and fast ‘Please, let me go now’.

  
Alan rubbed his back soothingly, but it was not working for Sam, who banged his forehead against the door.

  
‘Don’t, fight it, Sam’ he said, and pushed the nozzle to distract him from the pressure. Sam groaned and shuddered, his legs feeling weak and wobbly. Alan knew he was reaching his limit, so he started to murmur words of encouragement into Sam’s ear, whispering how brave a boy he was and how proud he was of him. The words had the effect Alan wanted, for soon a tear trickled down Sam’s cheek and he was sobbing openly. A quick look at the watch told Alan the time was up, so he pinched Sam softly for attention.

  
‘I’m going to take the nozzle out, Sam. I need you to hold it until you sit on the toilet, OK?’

  
Sam was beyond words, so he just nodded. Alan pulled the nozzle out as softly as he could.

  
‘Easy, Sam’ he said, steadying him. Sam sniffed and sat on the toilet, letting his body do what it must, and in a moment it was all over, the pressure, the sting, the fear and the shame. Sam felt stunned, a sudden hollowness threatening to choke him, but Alan was there, murmuring nonsense words of comfort, petting his hair and blowing cool air over his eyelids, and Sam clung to him blindly, as he would a lifeline.  
  
He never knew how he got to his bedroom, but the sheets were cool and crisp, and Alan was warm and soft by his side. It was 6 o’clock in the morning, and the house was dark and silent. Sam felt nice and cozy, a sweet heaviness to his limbs. He drowsily remembered the events of last night, Alan’s wicked game and his breathtaking tenderness. He curled tightly around him, not caring if he woke up, wanting to imprint his love and devotion onto his skin.

  
‘Sam, you’re squeezing me’ Alan sleepily murmured.

  
And Sam smiled.


End file.
